


The Prince's Shield

by Mizufae, psmithery



Series: The Prince [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-14
Updated: 2011-05-14
Packaged: 2017-10-19 09:19:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizufae/pseuds/Mizufae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/psmithery/pseuds/psmithery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and Merlin are sullen and teenagery and then they make out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prince's Shield

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: very mild homophobia; may induce diabetes
> 
> Also posted [here](http://mintandhoney.livejournal.com/811.html) on livejournal
> 
> [Click here](http://psmithery.livejournal.com/tag/special%20features) for special features, including outtakes, blooper reels and random foolery.

Arthur didn’t bother to knock as he opened the back door to Merlin’s house. It led directly into Hunith’s avocado green kitchen and he found her there, with the fixings for a salad. She took one look at him, carrying Merlin’s homework assignments and text books under the crook of an arm, and the shadows under his eyes, and raised an eyebrow.

“Go on upstairs and see Merlin. The both of you look like you need a good lie down. Go on,” Hunith made a shooing gesture with a cucumber, “he’s not contagious.”

 _Three weeks had passed and they still hadn’t talked about it. Not that Arthur was complaining exactly, but eventually something would have to break and he’d prefer it not to be his face. On that first Monday, he’d felt more nervous going to school than he had since he started high school. He bumped into Merlin in the hall outside maths and Merlin glanced up from the book he was buried in, with bruised smudges under his eyes and a nervous blush on his face. They sat next to each other, as always, between Leon and Gwaine, and yeah, they were a little less talkative than usual, but no one else seemed to notice._

Arthur trailed his hand along the series of photographs that had been on the stairwell since he’d known the Emrys family. Tiny Merlin bundled up in the snow, a less tiny Merlin on his first day of school, cranky with ears sticking out for miles, Merlin and Arthur in bright colors for their first roles in the Christmas panto... He turned right at the landing and paused outside a door with a carved wooden M and a plaque that read: _HIC SVNT DRACONES._

 _Just yesterday after school, when he had gone up to the shops with Leon and Merlin, Arthur had stopped talking in the middle of a conversation to stare at him as he licked at a nut that was threatening to fall off the top of his ice cream. It was the image that had flashed through his mind just before he had come, very hard, that night, with a hand shoved down the front of his red pyjamas._

 _The past week had been going the same way, pretty much. They seemed to have fallen back into their usual routine with the occasional moment of dread and flashes of jealousy, like when Gwen had held Merlin’s head in her lap and crooned at him when he’d bashed it against the door frame, for absolutely no reason Arthur could see. But then Merlin hadn’t shown up for school the next morning._

He turned the knob quietly, and slowly opened the door. The room was dark inside and it took Arthur a second to adjust to the gloom. When he had, he could just make out Merlin, curled up under the covers like a cat.

“Mum?” Merlin called out sleepily. There was a rustle of bedclothes and then he emerged, wearing a pair of rumpled pyjama bottoms and a star wars t-shirt. He blinked owlishly and rubbed his nose. “Oh. Hello Arthur.”

Arthur stumbled back, accidentally knocking a picture frame off the wall with the back of his head. “Hi. Are you sure I can come in?”

“Um. Yes.” He sounded surprised at the question.

“Oh. I just thought you were... never mind.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t having a wank, you disgusting pervert, don’t worry. I was just sleeping.”

“Oh. Right,” Arthur plonked himself down on Merlin’s bed. “Well what’s wrong with you then because I figured you might be dying, you didn’t reply to my texts, and here I find you not even wanking...”

Merlin snorted, “Mum forced me into a mental health day. She said I was overexerting myself and that she would not see me burn out when I’d been doing so well.”

Arthur had never been graced with a mental health day in his life. His father considered attendance to be equal in importance to grades and brooked no arguments. Arthur adopted a high pitched and completely inaccurate Welsh accent: “Oh, Hedgehog, sweetie darling boy, I’m just so concerned! Let me clutch you to my bosom!” He scrambled forward to grab at Merlin’s head and wrangle him into some kind of strange cradle on his lap, before he realised what was happening and Merlin’s limbs were all splayed out on his and it was dark and in Merlin’s room and very, very quiet.

 _On Tuesday morning of the first week, Arthur found Merlin sitting by himself in the sixth-form common room, looking completely wretched and rather like he hadn’t slept at all the night before. Arthur asked him what was wrong, but Merlin only grunted something about “’m just tired” and the subject was dropped._

“Boys, would you like a cup of tea?” There was a soft knock at the door and Merlin launched himself wildly at the lamp.

“Yeah,” Merlin cleared his throat, his voice breaking, “sure, thanks Mum.”

“Sounds great Mrs. Emrys! We’ll come down in a minute.”

They both paused, listening to Hunith’s footsteps on the stairs.

“I’m just going to the loo, I’ll be down in a sec.” Merlin pelted down the hall, not looking at Arthur.

Hunith turned when she heard Arthur arrive, and instead of sliding a mug of tea down the counter like she normally would, she immediately hunched over into Arthur’s space with two full mugs, and bundled him into the breakfast nook.

“Arthur, you must tell me what’s happening with Merlin. You know I depend on you to keep me in the loop. He doesn’t talk to me like he used to when he was little. Is there a girl?” Hunith looked over at him with a knowing grin. “He was just like this when he fancied that American girl, Freya Gatti, you know, and he’d hide in his bedroom doing goodness knows what -” Arthur started blushing furiously at that “-and then one day he came swanning in, beaming like the sun and I knew what had happened.”

Arthur coughed. “I don’t think there’s a girl, he hasn’t mentioned...” he paused, remembering what Merlin had said to Gwaine last week, “...anyone.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, patting Arthur’s hand, “if this secret isn’t yours to tell I suppose I can understand. But remember I’m here if you need anything, okay?”

 _They went back to Arthur’s house on that first Friday and Merlin enthusiastically suggested they kick the football around. Arthur had hesitated for only a moment, but decided it was best not to comment on the fact that Merlin had never suggested it before. When Arthur asked if he wanted toasted cheese sandwiches for dinner, he just rubbed the back of his head and said, “Nah, I’ve got an assignment for bio due Monday, sorry.”_

Merlin walked in just as his mother finished, giving them an odd look as he slid onto a chair. Hunith immediately got up and began fussing when he came in. “What are you doing Hedgie? It’s four in the afternoon and you’re still not dressed!”

“Mum, you’re the one who told me to get some sleep in the first place!”

“Yes, but that was at lunchtime - have you even been outside today?” She whipped her head around to smile sweetly at Arthur, “You just drink your tea, dear.”

Arthur suddenly became very interested in the bottom of his teacup.

“Why don’t the two of you go for a walk, hmmm? Get some fresh air.”

Merlin shrugged and asked Arthur wordlessly if he would agree.

“Where d’you want to go?”

Merlin shrugged again. “I’unno. But apparently Mum here wants us to go play.”

“Eh. I dunno. Park, then?”

Hunith rubbed Arthur’s shoulder and kissed his cheek. “That’s a good boy.” Then she pointed a finger at Merlin and said, “Now don’t you go out dressed like that, young man, it’s been raining and you’ll catch the death of cold. Go and put a jumper on.”

Arthur pouted mockingly at him, so Merlin threw up two fingers while Hunith’s back was turned. Normally, if someone treated Arthur with such condescension, he would bristle and act as grownup as possible around them. But for some reason, with Hunith, he never seemed to mind. It didn’t stop him from making fun of Merlin for enduring it, though.

“And don’t forget your wellies!” she called after him as he trudged up the stairs. She turned back to Arthur, “Do you need a raincoat, dear?”

 _It had rained on Tuesday, so the common room was packed at lunch time. They had taken up residence in the music hall with Leon and Elyan, sitting against the cold radiators while Leon cleaned the spit valves of his tuba._

 _“Do you have to do that while we’re eating?” Arthur asked._

 _Leon just ignored him, and scrubbed at a pipe with some kind of bristly contraption. Arthur gave it up as a lost cause and turned to Merlin._

 _“Damn this rain, the pitch is going to be a wreck this afternoon.”_

 _Merlin hummed in agreement, marked his place in his book, and began fishing around in his pockets._

 _“Hey, are you going home straight after school or did you wanna hang... a-around...”_

 _Merlin had unwrapped one of the many bars of chocolate he kept on himself at all times and was engrossed in its consumption. Arthur had learned in the past seven years not to get in between Merlin and his chocolate eating ritual. This consisted of unsticking the wrapper completely, then picking the fragments of chocolate from the outside and catching the strings of caramel with his tongue, before scooping up a bit of the gooey centre on each finger and licking them clean._

 _At the moment, Merlin was busy with the second to last step, sucking sugar off his thumb and working his tongue around his nails to get the last bits of caramel. It was just that Arthur had never really noticed before, how completely god damn distracting it was of him. He thought about Merlin’s fingers and how they had felt three weeks ago and this was really not the time for_ that _to be happening._

 _Arthur must have made a noise because Merlin looked at him then, with a finger still stuck in his mouth._

 _Merlin did many annoying things in addition to eating chocolate bars like they were always the last ones on the planet, including forgetting to get real food for lunch at least twice a week, resulting in Arthur’s being suspiciously nicked. It didn’t really bug Arthur anymore - he eventually caved when they were about thirteen and just brought double every day._

 _Merlin flicked his eyes down to the packet of sandwiches Arthur was holding, and Arthur was about to offer one to him, when he slunk across the floor to snatch one of Elyan’s instead._

 _Elyan squawked “Oi! My dad made those!” when he caught Merlin halfway through a soggy tuna sandwich. Arthur found himself pouting, and later developed a serious case of indigestion in his afternoon civics class, having eaten both his and Merlin’s lunch._

Merlin plodded alongside Arthur in his wellies and raincoat and slumped in a generally miserable way. The sidewalk was a mess of wet leaves and squashed hyacinths, but Arthur honestly was enjoying the fresh air. He walked close to Merlin, hands in his pockets, brushing his shoulder companionably, but then Merlin veered slightly away, to tromp through the grass. Arthur watched as Merlin dug through his back pockets and came up with a chocolate bar - this one apparently with nuts, because he then broke tiny chunks off and sucked them clean. He sighed; there wasn’t a chance in hell Merlin would share.

There was a whining sound that echoed from down the quiet road. Merlin looked up from his snack. There at the corner of the fence demarcating the park was a brownish, bedraggled sort of creature. Merlin jogged a few loping strides, Arthur following after, and they soon realised it was a dog whose lead had gotten irreparably tangled in the chain link.

Merlin was crouching down beside it when Arthur arrived behind him. “Who’s this, then? How long have you been here?”

Arthur left him to it, feeling irrationally resentful towards the ugly little thing, and went to sit on the swings to brood. A moment later Merlin came up to him. “Arthur, Arthur, lend me your knife.”

“My multi-tool, you mean?”

Merlin poked him on his knee, pushing him back a few inches on the swing. “Whatever. I need it for the dog.”

Arthur pushed up and off the swing. “Here,” he said, bestowing it with great reverence into Merlin’s hands. “Don’t break it or I’ll murder you.” Merlin rolled his eyes while Arthur turned around and wiped at his damp trousers. “Ugh, my bum is all wet, I shouldn’t’ve sat there...”

Behind him, Merlin made a strangled noise and ran back to the fence. “Hold tight, doggie! I’m coming to save you!”

 _Arthur was playing Jedi Knights with Percy on the Wednesday of the first week in order to distract themselves from the interminable dullness of World Development._

 _“You cannot defeat me!” he declared in a whisper, making vwooshing noises and clacking his pen at dramatic angles._

 _Percy cackled evily under his breath. “Mwuaha! Haha! Young padawan, you are pants at this!”_

 _Arthur broke character. “You wouldn’t call me padawan, only Master Merli-Wan Kenobi would do that.”_

 _Percy rolled his eyes and stabbed himself with his own pen, making overdrawn death noises. “I’ve been... murdered... by the powers of... Darth Pedantry!” But Arthur didn’t really notice because Merlin had stood up, scraping his chair across the linoleum, and ran off through the door, nearly tripping over a desk on his way._

 _Percy leaned back in. “D’you know what’s wrong with him? He’s been acting weird all week.”_

 _He shrugged, tapped his fingers on his knee. “I think he’s just... got a lot of work to do. Maybe he’s getting sick? I’ll ask later.” But Arthur never did ask._

Merlin crouched next to the little dog, trying to avoid stabbing it with Arthur’s multi-tool while it bounced around excitedly. He finally managed to free it and it immediately leaped at him, covering his jeans with muddy paw-prints.

“I’ve never seen this dog in the neighborhood, have you? Where did he come from?”

The dog was panting. Even though it was all wet, it had been trapped on a bit of a hill behind a bush and it must have been very thirsty. Arthur led it to a puddle next to the playground. “What does it matter?”

Merlin made a scolding sort of noise, highly reminiscent of his mother. “Maybe he doesn’t belong here at all. Maybe he’s not even a dog! Maybe he’s come to watch us in the guise of a dog, to analyse humanity and judge us.” He patted his knees and the dog bounded back to him. “Arthur! We have to show Scruffles we have the capacity for love and faster-than-light-speed travel!”

Arthur absently began swinging from the monkey bars. He had to tuck his feet up to clear the ground.

“Maybe Mum will let me keep him. Do you remember when we were 13 and that cat followed me home?”

“Yeah and then a week later you got that hideous rash?”

“Whatever, Scruffles here is different, I’m sure of it.” The dog rolled onto its back so Merlin could rub its tummy, its tongue lolling out the side of its mouth.

“You can barely keep an eye out for me, what makes you think you can have a dog?”

Merlin laughed. “Well for one, this little fellow can clean his own bollocks.”

Arthur squawked indignantly.

“Really though, do you think he lives round here?” Merlin had grown tired and leaned against the monkey bars, handing back Arthur’s multi-tool. “I guess we could make some fliers. Mum would let me keep him in the yard at the very least. She’s a bleeding heart. Oh, but what if he’s run from far away? Arthur, what if his person is the one who tied him to the fence? People are horrible. I can’t believe they would do something like that!”

Sometimes Merlin got really worked up about these things. It was really the only time he lost his calm. “Oh come on, that’s ridiculous. Who’d want to get rid of Scruffles?” Arthur gestured at it, now rubbing its back thoroughly into something slightly putrid on the ground.

“Not me,” Merlin declared, staring at Scruffles with giant googly eyes.

Arthur tutted. He’d have to figure this one out. “Oh wait, he’s got a collar on, hold on a minute...” He knelt down and burrowed his hand in the matted fur at the dog’s neck. He picked out a few leaves and twigs while he patted its head. “Ahah!” he crowed. There, under a ball of nearly felted fur, was the brass gleam of a tag. It had an address on it. “Grune Hill Street. That’s only three blocks over, innit?”

Merlin picked up a squirming Scruffles, holding it against his chest as it tried to wriggle free. “Come on, Arthur! Who knows how long it’s been since he’s had something to eat!”

Scruffles, as it turned out, was actually named Jasmine. Merlin deposited her into the pink arms of a grateful young girl who answered the door. “I thought she was gone for _ever_!” And soon enough she was all tears and flyaway blond hair. They hastily made their escape.

On the walk back to Merlin’s house, Arthur was feeling better than he had for three weeks. Merlin sneezed and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“You’re not actually sick, are you?”

“Told you. Mental health or whatever.”

Arthur gave Merlin the side-eye.

“You know how she is. Overprotective. Wants me to ‘just be happy’. I dunno, I’ve been skiving off from chores and things, too. And hey it’s not like you’re even allowed to talk, you’re the one who always gets these sporadic lapses in judgment!” He kept rubbing at his nose. “I may be, however, a tiny bit allergic to dog.”

“God, you’re such a wreck, here.” Arthur produced a checked handkerchief from his trousers and thrust it in Merlin’s face. “No no, you keep it,” he said when Merlin tried to give it back. He’d always get more at Christmas, anyway.

When they arrived at the back door, Hunith took one look at them, all wet and flushed and muddy, and bustled them into the bathroom, muttering about freshly mopped floors.

Dinner at Merlin’s was always a cheery affair, and though Uther had hired a cook to make meals at home, something about eating in their cozy green kitchen just made the food taste better.

“So then, the girl just started bawling her eyes out, and it was just kind of awful, I mean, her Dad was there but she wouldn’t stop _crying_ and Jasmine kept wiggling all over...” Merlin prattled on while Arthur demolished a piece of roast chicken.

“How exciting!” Hunith enthused. “Eat up now Merlin, I want you to get your homework out of the way and then I think the two of you could do with an early night, hmm? Both of you are exhausted.”

“Aw, Mum! Come on, it’s a Friday night, I’ll do it on the weekend.”

“No, Merlin, I’ve allowed you a day off to get yourself sorted, but you need to do your homework. Ask Arthur to help you and you’ll get it done it no time.”

Arthur smiled weakly at her. “Sure, Mrs. Emrys.”

“Oh, he won’t be any help,” Merlin groused, and stuffed some salad in his mouth.

This raised Arthur’s hackles. “What!” He threw a carrot at Merlin’s head when Hunith wasn’t looking. “I’m brilliant at homework. I am the king of homework!”

Merlin mumbled something suspicious that sounded like “bollocks” but definitely wasn’t because Hunith did not allow swearing at the dinner table.

At half nine, Hunith poked her head around the door with glasses of milk and found them aiming socks at a shoebox on top of Merlin’s wardrobe.

“Have you two done _any_ work this evening?”

Merlin looked up guiltily from the pile of missiles he’d gathered at his feet.

“A bit...?” He tried for the puppy-dog eyes. Arthur hid his smirk behind a chemistry textbook.

The eyes worked, apparently, because Arthur was sent to the bathroom with the pyjamas he kept at their house and wasn’t press-ganged into sharing more of his poorly-scrawled notes. When he came back, Merlin was lying on his floor in partial darkness, just the lamp at his desk on, listening to something on his headphones.

“If you don’t eat your meat, you can’t have any pudding!” Merlin told him.

Arthur put on a ridiculous Scottish accent, arms akimbo, and shrieked, “How can you have any pudding if you don’t eat your meat?!”

He grabbed the second pair of headphones trailing down from where the cord split, snatched a pillow from Merlin’s bed, and got himself comfortable on the rug for the rest of the album.

 _English Lit was the one class Merlin and Arthur had without any of their other friends that year. On the third Wednesday, they both managed to arrive early by five minutes. Nobody else was in the room, it was right after lunch, and there weren’t even any notes on the board. Arthur tried to do some revision but he couldn’t stop looking up to check on Merlin every thirty seconds._

 _Merlin couldn’t decide on a seat. Normally he sat next to Arthur, in the middle of the class, but he kept moving around. He’d sit down, try to unpack, sigh, put back all his pencils, stand up, move a few desks over, and do it all over again._

 _Arthur didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he did know that Merlin hadn’t done his homework for the class. It wasn’t unheard of, but it certainly hadn’t happened in English Lit - generally they banged it out together after school in order to forget about it as soon as possible._

 _“Listen, d’you wanna copy my essay?” he waved a packet of papers in Merlin’s direction. Merlin looked up, startled. “You can just you know, switch some words around...”_

 _“No! N-no.” Merlin stood up, hooked his bag over one shoulder. “Look, I’ve gotta...” he stared at the clock on the wall. “Ummm, gotta dash to the loo, be back in a tick,” and he ran off._

 _Merlin came back a few minutes late for class, and he sat in the front row. Arthur stared daggers into the back of his head. If something didn’t give soon, he didn’t know what he’d do. Merlin kept him sane and if Merlin started going insane then there would be no hope for either of them._

Even though they’d had dinner only a few hours ago, Arthur was feeling peckish. He rolled over and poked Merlin in the ribs.

“ _Mer_ lin... _Mer_ lin... Mer-”

“What is it?”

“I’m hungry.”

Merlin gave him a disgusted look. “We had dinner four hours ago, how can you be hungry?”

“I’m still growing.”

“Yes. Growing fatter. You had seconds and everything!”

“Hey!” Arthur pulled his shirt up, smacking a lean, muscled abdomen. “I am not fat!”

Merlin hid his face under a pillow. “Oh god, put it away!”

Arthur humphed.

“Alright. Fine. But we’ll have to be quiet, Mum’s probably asleep already.” Merlin hoisted himself off the floor, somehow managing to get caught in the headphone cords in the process.

They’d done this many times before, snuck downstairs for a midnight snack, but it hadn’t felt so illicit since they were twelve. Merlin put a finger to his lips and shushed dramatically when Arthur almost knocked over the mug tree. He grabbed the footstool to reach into the highest, farthest reaches of the cupboards and produced a small hoard of chocolate Digestives.

“Oooh,” Arthur taunted, “Mummy’ll get mad at you Hedgehog, those’re the nice ones for ‘company’.”

Merlin already had one in his mouth and two in his hands, waiting for the kettle. “Wha? You’re comp’ny!”

“Now now, don’t talk with your mouth full!” He held up his mug, pinky-out.

Merlin opened his mouth wide and waggled his tongue at him. It was covered in partially chewed biscuit.

“Eurgh! Put it away!” Arthur selected one for himself as Merlin began rummaging in the cupboards for cocoa.

They fell into a comfortable silence as they leaned against the counter and drank their ill-gotten cocoa. The kitchen clock ticked away in the background and the house settled around them.

“You’ve got a bit of -” Arthur gestured at his face with a chocolaty finger. Merlin rubbed the side of his mouth.

“Gone?”

“Other side -no, higher.” Merlin was steadily covering his left cheek with melted chocolate while Arthur stared, expression carefully blank. “You keep just missing it,” Arthur said, once Merlin had smudged his way up to his forehead.

Nearly a minute later, Arthur pointed at his face again. “Yeah, just - no no, further right... Nearly - you’re just spreading it around now!”

“You bloody get it then,” Merlin snapped, so Arthur leaned over and painted chocolate down the other side of his face.

“That’ll do you.”

“I’m covered in chocolate, aren’t I?”

“Yep,” Arthur replied cheerfully.

“You fucking wanker.” Merlin attacked him with a soggy biscuit, smushing it against Arthur’s cheek as he tried to twist his head out of the way.

“How do I look?” Arthur asked once Merlin was done, “Dashing?”

“Hmmmm.” Merlin eyed him for a moment and then added a chocolate moustache. “It’s a definite improvement,” he said, rubbing it in with three fingers, “but now you’ll have to go brunette to match.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Arthur made a grab for Merlin’s wrist, pulling it towards his mouth and slobbering all over Merlin’s palm.

“Urgh! Get off me, you bastard!” Merlin tried to tug free, but Arthur just tightened his grip and started licking up his fingers. He looked up once he’d reached Merlin’s fingertips and found him staring, bottom lip caught between his teeth and pupils blown. Arthur readjusted his grip on Merlin’s wrist, without breaking eye-contact, and sucked Merlin’s fingers into his mouth.

Merlin stumbled half a step closer.

Arthur didn’t quite know what to do, so he swirled his tongue between the two fingers. He put his free hand on Merlin’s hip to steady himself, his palm curving over the skin peeking out in the gap between t-shirt and pyjama bottom. Merlin licked his lips, and Arthur turned his head to suck down the side of Merlin’s forefinger.

Merlin’s breath smelled like chocolate and toothpaste and their knees were bumping together. Arthur could feel Merlin shivering but he pressed on regardless. Now that they were facing one another and Merlin wasn’t fighting him, Arthur’s grip around Merlin’s wrist loosened. He uncurled his thumb, still feeling the pulse under Merlin’s skin, but before he could drop his hand, Merlin leaned in and touched the tip of his tongue to the pad of Arthur’s thumb.

They stared at each other, noses inches apart. Slowly, Merlin lowered his head and wrapped his lips around it.

 _Arthur’s father would never forgive him if he got detention, but whenever Merlin ended up staying late for it, their usual arrangement involved Arthur waiting until Merlin could escape. Normally he’d be down at the nets, practicing his drives, but on Thursday of the second week, he’d hovered outside the doorway of one of the English classrooms and eavesdropped unabashedly. Merlin was in because he’d failed to do his chemistry homework three days in a row, but Gwaine was in, as usual, for casual vandalism._

 _Arthur wasn’t entirely sure why, but he found that he needed to keep an eye on Merlin whenever he was going to be around Gwaine alone._

 _“Hey Gwaine?” he heard Merlin ask, about fifteen minutes after they’d gone in._

 _“Call me G-spot, we’ve been over this. I’m working on a reputation here.”_

 _Merlin didn’t respond, but Arthur knew he was rolling his eyes._

 _“Alright, fine - what’s up?”_

 _“You know last year, at the cricket final?”_

 _Arthur almost dropped his cricket bat._

 _“Would that be the final where I snogged Willow?”_

 _“Um - yeah?”_

 _“What about it?”_

 _“Why did you do it?”_

 _“Because she’s a fit bird, mate! Why d’you think?”_

 _They had been set to scraping chewing gum from the underside of the desks, and from the sounds of it, Merlin had just thrown an old piece of gum at Gwaine._

 _“No - I mean after, when you... you know.”_

 _“Er... no?”_

 _“When you sucked me off,” Merlin hissed._

 _“Oh. That.” Gwaine’s chuckle made Arthur scowl._

 _“Yes - that. Why did you do it?”_

 _“You weren’t exactly complaining when I did.”_

 _“Yeah, well...”_

 _“Look, you were drunk and miserable, I was drunk and horny - it didn’t mean anything. And look, sometimes it’s just easier with a guy. You’re not gonna make a big deal out of this, are you? I thought you were cool with it.”_

 _“No, no, I’m cool with it-”_

 _“Well it’s not gonna happen again, anyway, if that’s what you were wondering.”_

 _“Well, no, but...”_

 _“You sucked at it.” Arthur’s head jerked up._

 _“What?_ I _didn’t_ suck _anything!”_

 _“Yeah but you like, grabbed my hair. My_ hair _, man! I don’t let nobody grab my hair.”_

 _Arthur fled to the closest bathroom. It only took the thought of Merlin’s fingers digging into his scalp for Arthur to come, tugging at the short hairs at the nape of his neck._

 _Merlin found him outside when he was done with detention, and they trudged towards the train station. When Merlin hopped off one station before Arthur’s, he jabbed Arthur in the short-ribs with his deadly elbows and it had seemed everything was back to normal, at least as far as Merlin was concerned._

Arthur pulled Merlin closer, rubbing his tongue over Merlin’s fingertips before sucking them down again. Merlin made a little noise in the back of his throat and curled his free hand around the back of Arthur’s neck.

Arthur pulled his thumb out, and Merlin parted his lips to follow it.

“Bollocks. We’re out of biscuits.” His voice sounded scratchy in his ears, and Merlin hastily turned away, apparently to investigate the empty box.

“Well, em, I’ve got a chocolate bar around here, if you want it.”

“Oh, no thanks, I feel a bit sick actually.”

Merlin swallowed. “Oh yeah, me too.” He rumpled his hair. “Do you want to watch some telly or something?”

“Nah, your Mum’d have a fit if she found out anyway. We’re s’posed to be in bed early, remember?”

They headed up the stairs, bickering the whole way.

“You were the one who wanted to sneak down for a midnight snack.” Merlin pitched his voice high and feminine, “‘I’m feeling a bit peckish, aren’t you? Oh, Merlin, make me tea!’”

“You’re the one who was napping in the middle of the day like a five year old...”

 _They hadn’t had a decent argument for a whole week and Arthur was starting to crack under the strain. He finally broke on the second Friday afternoon. Merlin had mumbled something about going to see a movie with his weird uncle, which left Arthur with nothing to do with his Friday night for the first time in years. In desperation, he sought out Lance and dragged him to the shops for ice-cream._

 _“So... why haven’t you asked Gwen out yet?”_

 _Lance blinked at him. “Why would I ask her out? We’re just friends.”_

 _“Pfft. Just friends. There’s no such thing as ‘just friends’, Lance, you know that!” He elbowed Lance in the side and made great big grabby motions with his hands at his chest. Lance frowned._

 _“So, do you think I should ask her out then?”_

 _“What? No. I mean, do you like her?”_

 _“Of course I like her, we’re friends.”_

 _“Yeah, but do you fancy her? Do you want to...” Arthur licked his ice-cream cone suggestively._

 _“_ Arthur _!”_

 _“What?”_

 _“She’s my best friend - I don’t want to risk what we’ve got. It would be rude and I wouldn’t want to take advantage.”_

 _“Yes, okay fine.” Arthur scowled and scuffed his shoes on the pavement. “Sorry, I’m just a bit... Thanks for coming. I’ll see you at the match on Saturday, yeah?”_

Arthur stretched out on Merlin’s bed, pulling the covers up and flopping back on the pillows before Merlin had a chance to put one at the foot of the bed. Merlin flicked the light off and slid under the duvet, and proceeded to toss and turn for a full minute.

Arthur cleared his throat. “I had a good time today, you know.”

This caused Merlin to stop fidgeting, finally. “Yeah. Me too.”

They were silent for a minute, and then Arthur said to the ceiling, “It’s been a while.”

“Hmm?”

“Since we’ve just hung out, yeah?”

“Oh. I... yeah. Was cool.”

Arthur turned his head to face him, though he was still only a vague shape in the darkness. “Look, I’m sorry that... that it’s been all shit since the other week, yeah? And... fuck, this isn’t coming out right-”

“No, it’s okay, I - me too.”

“Yeah.”

Another minute passed, and Merlin exhaled slowly. “Let’s just go to sleep.”

“G‘night,” Arthur grunted.

Merlin rolled over with his back to Arthur. He stayed very still and his breathing was obviously slow and heavy, like someone who was mimicking sleep. Arthur stared up at the ceiling, counting the little glow in the dark stars stuck there, until Merlin’s breath evened out. He really must have been tired. Arthur didn’t even try closing his eyes.

 _Arthur had always been a sportsman. It was his calling. Merlin was not. In his years at school, he had never made it into a higher team than the thirds, and as such, he only had practice on Mondays. If he wasn’t busy, Arthur would usually go along to watch him flail about at the badminton nets. He was like a newborn giraffe with skates strapped on._

 _He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Go Merlin! Keep the pressure on!” Merlin glared and got hit in the head with a shuttlecock. Arthur grinned to himself as he watched Merlin serve. He waited until just the perfect moment, and then, “Nice form!”_

 _Merlin nearly put out his eye with his own racket. “What was that for! Come on Arthur! I’m trying to play!” The flush was high on Merlin’s cheeks as he came rushing to the benches. “What’s with you this week? God!”_

 _He swallowed, and didn’t even have to try to look contrite. “Oh. Sorry. I thought you liked it when I cheered for you.”_

Merlin rolled over, smacking his lips in his sleep. His hand flopped next to Arthur’s face and Arthur turned on his side. Those fingers were less than an inch away from him and he could still smell the chocolate from before. He salivated despite himself.

They had been... fascinating, in his mouth. The fingertips had been rough and the skin at the joints had been soft and Arthur really, really wanted to lick them again. Merlin was sleeping soundly. Normally he snored and tossed a bit but he seemed calm at the moment. His fingers twitched.

“Fuck,” Arthur muttered into his own pillow.

It only took two more twitches to completely break down any sort of paltry defenses Arthur had built up. He rolled into Merlin and hovered for a split second, mouth open above Merlin’s hand, before dropping down and taking a finger in between his lips. It tapped up against his palate and he worried the nail with his tongue before smoothing down to the knuckle and back up again.

He found himself humming as he moved to the next finger, releasing the first one with a quiet, sticky sound.

Merlin rolled onto his side, facing Arthur. He barely noticed, all of his attention on the fingers in his mouth, nibbling his way down to the palm and nosing it. Merlin’s spit-slick fingers brushed his jaw, and then tightened.

“What’re... Arthur?”

Arthur lifted his head up an inch or so. “Shut up,” he said, and got back to the business of kissing Merlin’s palm. “I just wanted to, okay?”

“Um?”

Merlin looked over at him, and carded his other hand through Arthur’s fringe. He groaned and wriggled closer, sucking harder on Merlin’s fingers. Merlin wrapped his ankle over Arthur’s calf, scratching his nails against his scalp. Merlin’s breath hit his face, coming faster as he turned to nip at the thumb and down towards his wrist.

His hand tightened at the back of Arthur’s neck. Arthur folded in against him, bringing an arm across Merlin’s chest. He ran his lips over Merlin’s jaw, his eyebrows, down his nose; their breath became ragged. He stopped there, with their noses nudging against one another, while Merlin traced his damp fingers down Arthur’s cheek and slowly turned his face up until their lips brushed.

It wasn’t exactly a kiss, it had more air than lips, but Merlin bumped his nose against Arthur’s again, and Arthur let his lips part a little further and close around Merlin’s, which were chapped and dry, but still excellent, and that _was_ a kiss, and Merlin exhaled shakily into his mouth and bent up, closer.

The next kiss was longer, and Merlin teased Arthur’s lips apart, hesitantly licking at the corner. Arthur made a muffled sound and twined his tongue up against Merlin’s. There was a hard shape pressing into his leg and it took him a moment to work out that was Merlin’s _cock_ , that he’d made Merlin _hard_ , and the discovery made him grab mindlessly at the sheets.

At some point Arthur rolled onto Merlin fully and he found his ankles underneath the duvet, so he curled his toes and rubbed along the tendons at the back of them. His hands finally found purchase, one on Merlin’s waist and the other up behind Merlin’s ear. He turned Merlin’s head and nipped at his earlobe, ran along the edge of it with his nose, following the same path with his tongue a second later. Merlin wriggled beneath him, and sucked at a spot he could reach on Arthur’s neck.

When Arthur bit down lightly on the side of his ear, Merlin gasped, and lifted a knee up between Arthur’s thighs. The heady pressure was almost too much; Merlin’s hands wending their way under Arthur’s shirt, Merlin’s toes pressing into his calf, Merlin’s mouth hot against his clavicle, Merlin’s thigh holding him in place. Arthur breathed in and dragged Merlin’s mouth up to his own.

Merlin kissed hungrily - he was kind of a biter, but Arthur probably should have expected it, considering how long it had taken for the purpling bite-mark on his neck from three weeks ago to heal. He also found, as Merlin followed every bite and nip with a soothing lathe of his tongue, that he didn’t mind it in the slightest.

He kissed down Merlin’s neck and then abruptly pulled up and away.

Merlin panted. In the darkness, he could see a slice of Merlin’s pale skin where his shirt had rucked up, so Arthur bent down and pulled it up much further, sliding it up with smooth strokes of his palms and following the path with his mouth.

He was working on autopilot, ignoring the dusting of coarse hair and the stomach muscles, letting Merlin clutch at his head and his neck, but as he worked his way up he caught himself by surprise at the lack of Merlin’s breasts.

Considering Merlin’s cock had been pressing insistently against his thigh the whole time, it shouldn’t have come as a shock, but it did. Arthur huffed out a laugh right below Merlin’s left nipple, cupping his hand around a breast that wasn’t there.

Merlin stopped his pleased writhing, dropped his bent knee. “Arthur, are you bemoaning my lack of tits?”

He pulled Merlin’s hand away from his neck, weaving their fingers together. “Er, kinda. Um. Yeah.”

Arthur figured that would be the end of it, Merlin’s shirt bunched up around his armpits, but suddenly Merlin rolled him onto his back and sat on his thighs. “Get this off, then,” he instructed, pulling up on Arthur’s shirt. When Arthur finally did, only struggling a bit with it around his head, Merlin took off his own shirt and bent right down to Arthur’s nipples, licking and sucking and biting them.

It was a bit of a revelation, to say the least. His girlfriends had either never bothered, or been gentle to the point of tickling, but it seemed that Merlin didn’t bemoan Arthur’s lack of tits whatsoever. Arthur realized he was making some pretty inexcusable sounds, groaning and keening and probably gasping, so he pulled Merlin back up to kiss him on the mouth again, chests flush against one another.

The lack of breasts was nice. The lack of breasts, it seemed, let them touch more of each other at once.

Merlin was rolling his hips against Arthur’s, and he could feel Merlin’s cock, bleeding heat through the thin fabric of his pyjama bottoms. Arthur urged him up a little higher and bent his head up to catch one of Merlin’s nipples between his lips. He bit down gently. The movement of Merlin’s hips stuttered and he breathed in sharply.

“Shhhh” Arthur giggled against his chest, but Merlin kept gasping above him, so he put a hand over Merlin’s mouth and tongued the nipple again.

Merlin began licking Arthur’s palm, teasing his tongue along the spaces between his fingers. If that’s what it had felt like when Arthur had done it to Merlin, he completely understood why he’d been biting his lip. It was like his fingertips were directly connected to his cock.

“Shit Merlin.” Arthur switched to his other nipple, because after all, there _were_ two of them, and scraped his teeth against it.

Merlin slid off him, running his leg up between Arthur’s and sucking on his neck.

“Oh no you don’t,” Arthur muttered and rolled onto his side to protect his exposed neck from Merlin’s teeth, and met them with a kiss.

He could feel Merlin grin against his mouth and it made their kisses sloppy and slow. A stray hand wound itself underneath Arthur and grabbed his arse.

“You, Merlin Emrys,” Arthur said against his mouth, “are a filthy little perv.”

“Always liked that about m’self, personally.”

Arthur jabbed a hand into his ribs, skimmed down and dipped beneath the waistband of Merlin’s tartan pyjamas, poked him a little in his bony arse. It was warm and quiet and Merlin was grinning idiotically into his neck.

Three weeks was a long time to go without a best friend, really. He’d felt completely off-kilter for almost a month. Merlin had been there, but he hadn’t been really, properly present. Was it going to happen again? Would they just fuck around every few weeks and live in perpetual awkwardness for all the time in between?

Merlin rolled off to the side, grabbed Arthur’s hand, laced their fingers together, and counted their knuckles with his lips.

Arthur threw his other arm over his eyes and huffed, his previously-insistent erection flagging somewhat at the prospect of fucking everything up again. He didn’t think he could handle another three weeks of weirdness, even if there was the promise of incredibly excellent snogging at the end of it. He’d have to figure this out.

It wasn’t so much that Merlin was a guy, as that he was Arthur’s best friend. When Merlin had taken up with Freya there had been at least a month of intense, irrational hatred towards her on Arthur’s part. He’d managed to quell it when Merlin had promised his Friday nights would remain free, or rather, free for Arthur’s attention. Freya had just shrugged, and kept Merlin busy on Saturdays instead.

But now it wasn’t Freya making trouble, it was Arthur himself. Ugh, Arthur was a jealous, stupid prat.

Merlin tucked his head under Arthur’s chin and bit his collarbones a little.

Damn it all. If he was going to do this with Merlin, fine. But he wasn’t going to be all _gay_ about it. Gwaine sucked Merlin off and he got heaps of birds. And Merlin was still friends with Gwaine - he hadn’t noticed even a day of strained tension between them. Of course, he’d been busy winding down from the high of a championship match, but surely he would have caught something where Merlin was concerned.

Arthur turned in to him and dropped his head on top of Merlin’s. He was confident in his plan. If he was just up-front about it, surely Merlin would get on board. Wasn’t having a fuck buddy everyone’s ideal, anyway?

They fell asleep curled up together, Merlin’s lean body pressed all up his back and Merlin’s hands splayed across his stomach.

In the morning they trundled down the stairs together, following the scent of pancakes. “Are those chocolate chips, Mum?”

“Of course they are. Pour Arthur some juice now, Hedgehog.”

Arthur took the full glass from Merlin with a sweet smile. “Thanks, Hedgehog.” Merlin elbowed him in the arm, aiming for the sore spot he’d slept on all night.

“Don’t you two have a lot of energy this morning! I think an early night was just what you needed.” Hunith ladled batter into a frying pan. It sizzled.

 

FIN.


End file.
